People say age is just a number. But it's absolutely more than that. How you perceive the world is greatly influenced by your age. Your experiences. How you are at the time. Your innocence. I have three unique perspectives inside of me to share with you. 

One is that of a happy and innocent five year old girl. She's young, naive, loves to play and make people happy. Even though people tell her she's a boy, she knows deep down she's a little girl. She spends her free time coloring with crayons, though she has trouble picking the colors out sometimes. She has many wooden trains she plays with, and when she's sleepy, she cuddles her several stuffed animals and takes a nap. 

She's happy and carefree, and when she sees someone else who is unhappy around her, she will go out of her way to try and cheer them up by any means necessary. Because of her willingness to help anyone, even to her own detriment, she attracted the attention of many people who wanted to use her for their own gain, or their perverse satisfaction. She didn't care how unhappy or uncomfy it made her, nor would she know the lasting effects it would have on us. All she knew was, she had to make people happy no matter what. Though she was young, she was forced to learn a lot of stuff children her age whouldn't have to learn about. Things that no child her age should ever have to experience.

Her name is Azi.

The next, a scared, scarred teenage girl. She had learned long ago that her thoughts, feelings, opinions, pain didn't matter. She almost never talks, too scared to voice her mind. Whenever she does, she's often yelled at or punished for speaking out of turn. She was only there for the purpose of making other people feel good and happy. Yes, sometimes those people do make her feel good in return. But, quite a few made her feel so bad and awful so much of the time, it overshadowed the good times. She was constantly insulted, berated, abused, beaten, forced to do things that made her feel gross and hate her own existence. Several times, she tried to end her existence. Some times half heartedly. Other times, with more sincere plans. She had no hope of ever making it to adulthood, and no plans to. Her life was day after day of almost constant pain. 

But, she never tried to escape. Not actively. Those who used and abused her, had so thoroughly forced their will on her, they made her feel that, she was genuinely worthless without them. That, nobody would love her except them. That they were actually the nice ones in the world, and nobody else would treat her as kindly as they did. Whenever she did manage to slip away from them, if even for a moment, she knew that when they found her, they would be even more upset than ever, and teach her a lesson. So, to save herself some semblance of pain, she would always return to them before they found her, to show how loyal she was, how she deserved the good treatment they gave her. She felt guilty whenever she was happy and away from them. She felt she did deserve some of the pain. As a reminder of what it felt like to be treated nicely, when it rarely came around. She helplessly clinged to all of those fleeting happy times with those who abused her. It was the thought of those few good times, that got her through the countless bad times. She's so scared of change, she'd rather take familiar abuse, than risk it in an unknown, uncertain future. 

Her name is Gabi.

Then, there's me. Having just turned 26 years old a few days ago, I'm an adult. Somehow, despite everything we've been through, I'm still alive. I've done things and been places I couldn't have imagined as a kid or a teen. I still bear many marks from the trauma we experienced as a child and a teenager. I still feel major unease and fear at a lot of things that remind me of what we've been through. But, I know that I have more power than I was led to believe. I have more agency. I can, and do, say no. I can walk away from people who want to hurt me, and make an effort to find new, better experiences in life.

Though, I didn't make it to this point in life alone. I'm not just talking about the amazing friends I've made along the way. But also, the headmates inside me, who I'm only now starting to meet and talk to. 

Azi keeps me happy. She's the little voice in my head that helps me cling to things that make me feel good. She reminds me that it's important to play, to do things that make me, and those around me, happy. I don't think I'd be alive without her. 

Gabi bore the brunt of our childhood trauma. Though many of the details are repressed in my mind, she remembers them all. She's gone through hell and back to protect us, shield us from danger the best she can. I don't think I'd be alive without her either. 

Why I, a barely functional adult, became responsible for these two children, one innocent and naive, one traumatized and scared of the world, I'll never know. But, I need to treat them nicely and gently. We've all been through so much pain together. They helped me survive to this point. And we have a long way to go before we're healed. If we can ever fully heal, that is.

But it's not a one way street. They also have their own voices and perspectives, which disagree with mine. While, on a logical level, I can know the things I do are to protect us, like by cutting away toxic people, Azi will voice her opinion, that she feels sad we can't help that toxic person get better, and Gabi will share her fear, that if we don't go back to them, they'll hurt us. Our life is constantly changing. We're meeting new people, learning how old people hurt us in obvious and subtle ways, and learning to cooperate better with each other. 

So, age isn't just a number. It's a reflection of how far you've come, and how far you still have to go.